


Cold Days

by designerjeremiah



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Dark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Mental Breakdown, References to Depression, Romance, Trauma, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:13:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29556846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/designerjeremiah/pseuds/designerjeremiah
Summary: As urged to write by @ohhipstaplease and several others."I can't stand coming home to a cold apartment." In a world gone slightly different, just a few months before Pain's assault, an overworked, depressed Naruto returns to Konoha on a bitter winter's day after the worst mission of his career, but a chance encounter with Hinata makes her decide to bring a little warmth to his life.
Relationships: Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 11
Kudos: 36





	Cold Days

**Author's Note:**

> Something of an excerpt from a longer work I've been considering, where Naruto is just a tiny bit more ruthless and damaged like Sasuke, and Sasuke is just a tiny bit more optimistic and hopeful like Naruto. Not enough to seriously derail their characters, but just enough for Jiraya's death to push Naruto into attempting to leave the village, just enough for Sasuke to seek a second opinion instead of blindly trusting Madara's poisoned words about Itachi. Set entirely after the Kazekage rescue arc, 100% canon before that - I'm so tired of fics that peter out before Shippuden can even get started.

Naruto shuddered as the bitter winter wind whipped his white shinobi-issue cloak aside and bit into his thin summer-weight orange jacket. It was rare the more northern winter winds of Iron and Iwa penetrated as far south as Konoha, and while the snow softly blanketing the town wasn’t too unusual, the frigid blast had left the streets empty, driving the usual bustling activity around the gates inside for the day.

It suited his mood today.

He stared at the usually familiar landscape, now alien and uncomfortable. The snow was a weight that seemed to drag at the buildings, almost as heavily as the scroll in his pouch seemed to drag at his waist, the imaginary blood on his hands dragged at his arms, the icy wind dragged at his face. Empty, quiet, desolate.

It was supposed to be a simple missing person mission, paired with an unfamiliar but friendly chunin a year younger than himself. That simple mission had become two missing girls, then a half-dozen, then a running fight through tunnels near the Kumo border, then… the stuff of nightmares.

Had it been _his_ team, Kakashi and Sakura and long-lost Sasuke at his side, then he wouldn’t be carrying a dead companion sealed in a scroll at his waist. The other three would have known what to do. Known how to help. But that was a dream lost to time - instead of re-establishing Team Kakashi after their sad but triumphant return from Suna after rescuing Gaara, as he had expected, instead, a sad smile had greeted his suggestion. Kakakshi unfortunately had other obligations, Baa-chan had said, sliding a dog-faced ANBU mask towards the jonin. Sakura still had three more years of intensive training, Tsunade Senju had said, nodding at her apprentice. Naruto and his unique skills were best suited as an adjunct to other teams, the Hokage had said, sliding him his long-sought chunin vest.

If he had had any idea of what that would actually mean for him, he would have thrown the damned thing back in her face.

Mission after mission after mission had filled the previous eighteen months, sometimes so fast that he had no time for himself except for a quick shower and quicker repack of his mission gear, then back out again, once more the outsider to an established team. Sometimes that wasn’t so bad, like his rare turns with Team Kurenai or Team Asuma or Team Guy, filled with friends he had known since the Academy. Most of the time, however, paired with teams that didn’t know how to utilize him, or worse, still looked at him as if he were the Kyuubi…

Weary, drained, empty. Burned out. 

And now with the bonus of the blood of innocents staining his hand.

The door to the guard station opened, and Izumo peered around the frame, nodding to Naruto. Naruto nodded dumbly in return, and felt oddly grateful as the jonin closed the station door without speaking to conserve heat.

The wind gusted again, and Naruto closed his eyes, wishing it would sweep him off his feet, carry him far away from this village, strip him of pain and thought and let him rest.

He sighed. “No rest for the wicked,” he whispered into the wind, then started trudging towards the Hokage tower and debriefing. This time he intended to tell her he needed some time off, to push the missions off on some other poor soul. And then Naruto could sleep, and dream of better days.

He passed the little sweet shop Sakura loved along the way. He faintly smiled to himself as he passed - maybe Sakura might be there after debriefing, maybe they could swap stories and smiles and Naruto could find a little peace with his friend. Later. 

The bell to the sweet shop’s door rang, and a high-pitched, sweet voice called out. “N-Naruto?” Hinata said, striding towards him, wrapped in a heavy lilac parka with the hood down, her long ebony hair catching the white snowflakes floating through the air. Her pupilless, pale lavender eyes were locked on his face through the steam of their mutual breath, the corners wrinkled in concern.

“Hinata,” he said, smiling in spite of himself. He reached out with one arm to lay a hand on her shoulder - then snatched it back, suddenly all too aware of the blood that hand had been covered with.

Quiet, shy, timid, and weird, sure, but Hinata was also _clean,_ and _pure,_ things Naruto could no longer claim.

She strode up to him through the snow, looking him carefully in the face. “Wh-what is wrong, Naruto-kun?” she asked innocently.

His heart twisted, and tears threatened in his eyes, as the urge to confess his failure almost overwhelmed him. But he forced it down, unwilling to spill the darkness all over clean and pure Hinata, and instead forced a smile.

“Got back from a mission,” he said, trying for a light tone. “It was a little rough.”

She reached up and cupped his face with a warm hand. “Something is wrong. What is it?”

“It’s nothing,” he lied. “I… I just hate coming home to a cold apartment, y’know?”

“Y-you are sure?” she asked, doubt written on her face.

He hesitated, then answered. “Maybe some other time,” he said. _Never_ , he said in the back of his head. “I gotta go, Lady Tsunade wants my report.”

“Okay,” Hinata answered, her hand dropping.

He smiled, turned, and fled down the street away from a pair of eyes that felt like they could see straight through his battered and broken soul.

* * *

Hinata watched Naruto stride through the snow, frowning. She had studied him for years, always warmed by the sun shining from his bright face, rich laughter bubbling under the surface, and fierce determination radiating from his bold heart. She _knew_ Naruto as few others ever had, despite never having the courage to tell him how she felt about the blond boy.

Exhaustion has seemed to drag at him over the past year, but Hinata had never seen him like this. His eyes were _hollow_ , like some vital part of him had been scooped out. He had trembled at her touch far more than could be excused by the biting wind, and had radiated pain and sorrow all around him.

She desperately wished she could do something. It tore her heart out to see him _hurt_ like this.

 _I just hate coming home to a cold apartment_ , she remembered. It was so pathetically little… but it was a start.

She ducked back into the little sweet shop, pulling a handful of ryo out of her purse. Pink-haired Sakura looked up from her bowl of sweet ice, brow wrinkling in confusion. “What’s going on, Hinata?”

“I-it is Naruto,” Hinata answered, sliding the bills under her plate and picking up the last bite of her cinnamon roll. “I think his last mission went very badly. I am going to see what I can do to help.”

Sakura smiled wearily. “I would come along too, but I have an evening emergency room shift in an hour,” she said. “Just… take care of him for me, will you?”

Hinata smiled gently. “Always,” she said in return, then slipped out the door, leaping to the roof and making a beeline for Naruto’s apartment.

She bounced lightly off the railing outside his door, landing on her feet. She shivered in the wind as she fished a set of lockpicks out of her purse, selecting the lever and rake. She slid the lever into place and applied pressure, then raked the pins twice with a practiced motion, and the door knob popped to the left, opening the door.

 _Naruto needs a better lock,_ she thought to herself, slipping off her soft winter boots in the doorway. She crossed the small kitchen to the wall heater, turning on both burners and clicking the igniter until it roared to life.

She glanced around, observing his apartment. It had an unused feeling, like the occupant had not been home in far too long. She checked his fridge, finding it bare, then his freezer, there only finding some kind of meat, wrapped tightly but far too freezer burned to be edible. A check of his cupboards only revealed cobwebs and two cups of instant ramen, both of which proved to be expired on closer inspection.

Hinata closed the cabinet and looked around, unsure. Father expected her home any time now for the family meal, but…

She couldn’t leave Naruto’s home as bare and empty as this. Not like he was acting today.

Nodding to herself, Hinata made up her mind. A shinobi always cared for their comrades, it was one of the foundations of the Will of Fire. Father would understand. 

A warm curry with rice, she decided. That would be a hot, filling meal fit to fill his belly and warm his heart. A market was just around the corner that would have all the ingredients she would need, and she would leave it warming in the oven for him.

 _Maybe with a note,_ she thought, blushing, _from his secret admirer._

Debriefing usually took two hours, leaving her just enough time. She slipped back into her winter boots, and walked briskly out the door.

* * *

Naruto slowly walked home, kicking through the snow drifts, his heart fractionally lighter.

Tsunade baa-chan had taken one look at his face, then set her sake down and stepped around the desk, wrapping the blond teen in a huge hug before he could say anything. He had almost wept, before reminding himself that shinobi did not cry, but the older blonde Hokage had held him in her embrace for a long moment more, rubbing her hands up and down his back. Then she pushed him into a seat, and took his report perched on the edge of her desk.

Her face had darkened into a scowl as his report progressed, the edge of her desk cracking under her hand from the anger building in her. Anger, and fear at the quiet monotone that was the only inflection he could muster to color his words. Then a grimace as he handed over the sealing scroll, returning the body of his dead comrade for rites. 

When he finished, a bare thirty minutes later, she had cupped his face and spoke.

“Two weeks off duty, starting now,” she said. “I’m sorry I have been pushing you so hard the past few months, but we have been light-handed on missions. I’m stopping that now. Konoha is not going to burn out one of our rising stars just because things are a little difficult.”

She stood, walking around her desk and settling back into her chair, giving Naruto a speculative look. “You know where counseling services are, right? In the hospital basement?”

Even with his current depression consuming him, he had mustered a faint look of scorn at the words. “Baa-chan,” he began, but Tsunade had cut him off with a chopping motion of her hand.

“That’s an order, Naruto,” she said, grim-faced. “Shinobi see a lot of awful shit out there, brat. But what you just saw is pretty close to the worst. It’s not shameful to talk to someone to help put it in perspective.”

“Speaking of perspective, Kakashi might be able to help you with that,” she added. “He’s the one ninja I have who has seen the absolute worst of humanity, and is still able to smile after that. Sakura’s next day off is in three days, and I’ll have Kakashi released from duty that day. Go spend some time with your old team, see if it helps.”

At his nod, she flicked her fingers at the door, dismissing him. “I’ll tell the desk-nin not to expect your report until after your two weeks. And,” she added, worry carved into her ever-youthful face, “Please take care of yourself.”

He had smiled, a tiny, bitter little smile at her words, but nodded. “I’ll… I’ll try, baa-chan. And thank you.” Then he walked out her door, down the tower, and out into the streets.

As he walked towards his home, he considered stopping at Ichiraku’s, but frankly he just wasn’t hungry at the moment. He wasn’t sure what he had left at home, but if hunger struck him later, there was a twenty-four hour store not far from the apartment. Meanwhile, fire up his heater, then huddle under the covers until the apartment warmed - he hadn’t lied to Hinata, he really did despise coming home to a cold apartment. Then maybe a hot shower, and then he would try to sleep.

He took the stairs to his top-floor apartment, slid his key home and unlocked the door, and gripped the door knob with his hand. He sighed, then opened the door and muttered “Tadaima,” to the cold room.

Only to be met with a warm blast of air to his face, and the scent of rich, delicious curry cooking, and a startled squeal as a pale-eyed, raven-haired girl leapt a foot in the air, spinning around and clutching a spoon to her breast.

“N-N-Naruto-kun,” Hinata gasped, eyes huge in her face.

“H… Hinata?” Naruto said in return, confused and lost.

“Ummm… ummm… okaeri?” she said, blushing furiously.

The silence stretched out, lingering, until Naruto pointed at his chest. “You, uh, got some on your shirt,” he said awkwardly.

“Eep,” Hinata said, snatching the spoon she had been using to stir the curry away from her breast, leaving a brown stain right over her heart. She spun, her skirt flaring as her blush darkened, and she stirred the curry violently. “Sorry,” she said over her shoulder.

Naruto couldn’t help but giggle a bit.

“I gotta pee,” he said as she wiped at the stain with a damp towel, walking towards the bathroom to give her a chance to gather her wits.

He spent a long moment staring at himself in the sink mirror after he finished. He looked aged, wrinkled like an old man, sorrow weighing heavily on him. But there was a surprising lightness in his eyes. _Okaeri,_ someone had replied, for the first time ever in his life, with a hot meal waiting… he never realized how much he had _hungered_ for that to be a part of his life. 

Shy, sweet, timid, weird Hinata Hyuuga had cooked him a hot meal, and welcomed him home. 

A fire he didn’t recognize grew in his heart, competing against the weight on his shoulders.

He stepped out of the bathroom to find a plate of curry at the single chair at his kitchen table, steaming hot. Hinata was pulling her parka on, and paused to bow to him. “I should go,” she said hesitantly.

“I don’t think so, y’know,” Naruto replied, then stepped into his combined bedroom/living space and pulled the rolling chair from under his workbench. He kicked it into the kitchen, then walked over to the stove and, grabbing a second plate, scooped a heap of rice onto it and then covered that with a thick layer of curry. He fished around in the drawer by the sink for a spoon, then carried his plate to the table, setting it down on the opposite side from the plate Hinata prepared.

He settled into the rolling chair, pulled up to the table, and stared at Hinata, waiting.

“Well?” he asked after a moment, pointing at her plate. “You going to join me or what?”

Hinata just looked at him with her timid face, before closing her eyes and nodding. “O-okay,” she said with a smile.

The first spoonfuls were warm and delicious, but slowly they grew smaller, until Naruto was only stirring his half-finished plate. He looked up, and caught the disappointed look on her face.

“I’m sorry it wasn’t very good, Naruto-kun,” she began, until he cut her off.

“No, Hinata-chan, this is delicious!” he exclaimed. “Your cooking is always great, y’know? I’m just…” His shoulders bowed under the weight once more, and he closed his eyes, struggling not to remember what he found in that black cavern.

Hinata’s chair scraped against the floor, then a warm arm wrapped around Naruto’s shoulder. “Please tell me what’s wrong, Naruto-kun,” she asked, holding him tight.

He turned, and buried his face in her pink sweater, hot tears spilling down his cheeks. “I‘m sorry,” he choked out, “I’m so sorry,” and then sobbing drowned out anything else he tried to say.

He felt her lift him out of the chair, and guide him as he cried, until she settled and his face fell into her lap.

Naruto curled up, hands clenching fistfuls of her skirt, and wept himself dry.

He came to some undefinable time later, eyes puffy and throat raw. She was humming quietly, and a moment later he realized it was a lullaby. Her back was leaning against his headboard, holding him on his bed, her hands running gently through his shaggy hair, quietly comforting him. He turned his head to look out the window, noting night had fallen, and then up to look at her face.

“I’m here, Naruto-kun,” she whispered. “Whenever you need to talk.”

He nodded, and rested his face in her lap again.

A few minutes later, he started to speak.

It was supposed to be a simple missing person case, a teenage girl missing from a northern Fire village. By the time Naruto and his teammate arrived, a second girl, this time seven years old, had gone missing. As the two had spoken to the village elders, a messenger had arrived from a neighboring village, reporting six more girls missing, anywhere between the ages of five and fifteen.

Some relatively simple tracking had led to a cave set into a hill, and then some of the fiercest, most desperate fighting of Naruto’s entire shinobi career, as a group of Kiri slavers had fought like demons, desperately staving off a certain death sentence. A kunai had taken his teammate in the neck, and Naruto was forced to listen to the young man’s last gasps bubble through the hole in his throat while Naruto was fighting off a group of the slavers, unable to reach him to help.

Then, finally, the last slaver dead, Naruto had hauled open the iron door the slavers had been guarding so fiercely, to find over two dozen girls naked and under genjutsu to force them to be compliant.

Except for one, maybe ten, awake and weeping in the middle of the floor, Bleeding heavily from a dozen deep cuts, even heavier from _other_ places, where the slavers had been taking their evening entertainment.

His first aid kit had been just as useless as his nonexistent healing jutsus. Horrified, lost, Naruto had done the only thing he could do, wrapping her in a discarded cloak and hugging her tight as she cried, leaping through the trees as fast as his feet would fly, desperate to reach the village and a healer in time.

Her cries weakening, falling silent, then her form going limp and boneless in his arms as she bled to death, still miles from the village.

“If I had only been faster,” Naruto gasped through the tears into Hinata’s lap. “If only I had fought harder… if only…”

Soft and gentle hands raised his face, until he was staring straight into Hinata’s own tear-streaked face. Then she pulled him into a fierce hug, holding him tightly. “I’m so sorry, Naruto-kun, that was horrible…” she whispered.

He shook his head against hers, and squeezed her back.

The two sat like that for a long while, before Naruto released her and wiped his eyes. Hinata brushed her own tears away, then reached out to cup both her hands around his face.

“Things like this… break people, Naruto,” she said, hesitantly. “You need to get some help.”

“I know,” he said back, his raw throat swollen.

“You know where counseling services are, right?”

“Basement of the hospital,” he answered.

“You… you’re not going to do anything… drastic, tonight, right?”

He shook his head. “I’m just going to take a shower, try to sleep, y’know. That’s all.”

She nodded in response. “Do… do you want me to stay?”

He shook his head again. “You should go home. Your father is probably worried sick about you.”

“He is not the only one worried about someone dear tonight,” she replied. 

Naruto smiled sadly, then sat up, heaving himself to his feet. He held his arm out to Hinata, helping her off his bed, and quietly escorted her to the door. He held out her parka as she slipped into it, then stood back as she slid her feet into her winter boots.

She turned back to him, then reached up and pulled his head down, and blushing, kissed his cheek.

“I will be by in the morning. WIll you be waiting for me?”

“I will,” he said softly.

She smiled, and caressed his cheek one last time. “Good night, Naruto-kun.”

Hinata opened the door, and slipped into the frigid night. Naruto watched her go, a strange warmth radiating from his chest, as he realized she had stolen his heart and taken it with her.


End file.
